


Give Me The Stars

by imaginedfables



Category: From Dusk Till Dawn: The Series
Genre: F/M, domestic bliss is abundant, i need to learn how to use tags correctly, lari aren't ya proud of me?, somewhere post season 3, there is literally not a single word of angst in this, unapologetic fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-15
Updated: 2015-11-15
Packaged: 2018-05-01 17:45:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5214941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imaginedfables/pseuds/imaginedfables
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“How could I?” she teases, pushing the covers and his wandering hands away as she lifts herself off the bed, groaning out loud when she catches sight of her reflection in the mirror. Her hair is a tangled mess and her clothes are wrinkled and it’s not fair that he still looks fantastic regardless of the hour or his state of drowsiness. “Honestly, I have no clue how you and your brother aren’t the size of a blimp.”</p><p>Or: Kate would appreciate Family Bonding Time a bit more if it wasn't implemented at four in the morning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Give Me The Stars

**Author's Note:**

> Look at me writing fluff!

_“If anyone else were to kiss me,_

_all they would taste is your name.”_

-Clementine Von Radics

…

There’s a flutter working its way around her lungs, floating down her spine in soft and gentle waves – curling around her ribs and penetrating her veins – shooting straight-down to her toes and fingertips like volts of electricity.

Tender.

Calloused fingers creating a well-worn path across her cheekbone and down the expanse of her throat. Blunt nails grazing at the sensitive skin they encounter and tangling with the loose strands of hair caught in the crossroads. Voice smooth and thick like hot chocolate on a frosty winter morning, guiding her home and offering comfort.

The closest one can get to Peace

“Wake up, Princess.”

Kate smiles, squeezing her eyes shut and pulling the soft cotton blanket tighter against her chin. “I don’t want to.”

“Scooby and Scrappy are gonna finish all the bacon if you don’t hurry.”

She laughs this time, and maybe it’s his stupid nicknames for their brothers or maybe it’s the fact that he’s pressing himself closer to her, causing the mattress to sink under his weight, all warmth and strength and protection as he wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her to his chest: it doesn’t matter, really, because the feeling of euphoria is nearly overwhelming.

“You know Scott and Richie hate when you call them that.”

“I know,” he agrees, burying his nose in her neck, and she doesn’t fight the sigh of contentment from falling off the tip of her tongue when his beard scratches against her shoulder. “Gives me every reason to keep doing it. Come on, you lazy bum. I want some pancakes.”

“Says the guy spooning me,” Kate accuses, arching her back when his right hand slips underneath the blanket and lands on top of her hip, pulling at the knot of her sweatpants distractedly while she elbows him playfully on the ribs. “Who did you con into making breakfast this early? Because we both know you can’t boil an egg without burning down the kitchen.”

“I highly resent that accusation,” Seth scoffs, pressing an open-mouthed kiss against her jaw and smirking when she shivers in response. “Richie and I _did_ manage to feed ourselves for twenty-eight years before we met you, Betty Crocker.”

“You lived on burgers and take-out.”

“Don’t forget the booze.”

“How could I?” she teases, pushing the covers and his wandering hands away as she lifts herself off the bed, groaning out loud when she catches sight of her reflection on the mirror. Her hair is a tangled mess and her clothes are wrinkled and it’s not fair that he still looks fantastic regardless of the hour and his state of drowsiness. “Honestly, I have no clue how you and your brother aren’t the size of a blimp.”

“We’ve got fantastic genes,” he deadpans, and it warms her heart to find none of the self-loathing that’s so ingrained into him present in his voice. It’s taken them a long time and an even greater amount of heartbreak to get here, and she’ll be damned if she lets him live the rest of his life in a cloud of guilt and regret. “Geckos are just naturally gifted.”

“It’s a wonder you still fit through the door when you’ve got such a big head.”

“Funny,” he smirks, crossing his arms behind his head and stretching out along the bed, the muscles of his arms and torso bulging out and on full display through the tight material of his muscle shirt, staring at her as she runs a brush through her hair. “I don’t hear you complaining about the size of my head when it’s down between your-,”

“Seth!”  Kate yelps, putting the brush down on her vanity and turning away from him. She can feel the blush burning her cheeks and spreading down her chest, and it doesn’t matter that she’s nineteen now and the farthest thing from innocent a person could be because there’s a part of her that will always be the Preacher’s Daughter who used to feel the greatest crime she could commit was kissing a boy in the back of her church.

A boy who could never touch her soul the way this man did.

She still doesn’t regret a single kiss she’s given him.

And then he’s there again, resting his chin on her shoulder and staring at her image in the mirror; hands reaching for her own and lacing their fingers together as she falls back into the home that his body has become for her.

“I love you,” he whispers, and it doesn’t matter how many times she hears him say it because it never fails to make her heart skip a beat. Her breath hitches in her throat and heat blooms in the pit of her stomach and there’s not a single crook left in her body that doubts this man’s confession or fails to reciprocate it with the same intensity. She feels it right down to her core, clinging to her bones and boiling in her blood so much fiercer than the evil that’d consumed her a year ago.

Kate turns around, keeping their hands together behind her back and standing on her toes to reach his lips, giggling when Seth lets go of her hands so he can pull her closer and deepen their kiss.

God, his mouth is pure _sin_.

“I love you, too,” she breathes out once they break apart for air, holding onto him like the lifeline he’d vowed and proven himself to be. “Even if you’re the biggest asshole I’ve ever met.”

She doesn’t have to see his face to know there’s a smile on it.

“It’s my greatest quality,” he retorts, leaning down to steal another kiss before taking a step back and tugging on her hand. “Now come on, Sleeping Beauty. Remember that we live in a house filled with culebras who have an unhealthy appetite for my bacon pieces. You don’t want me starve, do ya?”

“You are such a drama queen.”

 “Yeah, yeah, I know,” he shrugs her off, guiding her out the door and across the hall until they reach the kitchen. The lights are all on because it’s just after four in the morning and the sun hasn’t risen yet, but the rest of their family is milling around like if it was four in the afternoon, instead.

This is not a random occurrence.

Kisa is sitting on a stool next to their island, cup of coffee cradled in her palms. She’s always on the move – looking and finding the parts of herself she’d lost in the Twister – but she’d shown up at their door a few days ago and was more than welcomed to stay until her heart willed her to go. Richie is leaning against the counters, focusing intently on the Nutrition Facts printed on the back of the Pop-Tarts package Seth has recently become hooked on, and Scott is standing next to the stove with a spatula in his hand as he flips over the pancakes cooking on the skillet.

This was her family.

And the things and the mistakes they’d all made before mattered – _of course they mattered_ – but they didn’t _define_ them.

They all deserved Happiness.  

“Glad to see you could join us,” Richie hollers, walking towards the island and taking a seat beside Kisa. The tall brunette smiles at him, and Kate is glad to see that the resentment that’d lingered between them was close to disappearing. “Even if we did send Seth in for you twenty minutes ago. You’re usually awake in less than five.”

“Dude, it’s so freaking weird that you know that,” Scotts cuts in, shutting off the burners on the stove and giving the brother in question his best ‘what the fuck?’ stare. “You’re not even the one that’s dating her.”

“It’s not my fault they’re so loud all the time,” Richie defends himself, and Kate is really trying to understand what twists and turns her life took that led to her finding nothing offensive or out of place about this conversation. “Don’t act like they don’t drive you crazy, too, because you’ve got the same enhanced hearing that I do.”

“Well, yeah, but that doesn’t mean I’m about to bring it up during breakfast.”

“We all agreed it would be for the best if there’s no secrets in this family.”

“Richard,” Kisa intervenes, setting her mug down and doing her best to keep a straight face, but still failing to hide the mirth shining in her eyes over their ridiculous conversation. “You still have not mastered the art of diplomacy.”

Richie pouts.

“That’s it,” Seth whispers in her ear, “we’re moving out of here as soon as possible – somewhere bright and sunny with lots of convertibles, where these crazies can’t leech off of us. How does a beach house with glass walls sound to you?”

“Sounds like Paradise,” she sighs, whispering back, “I’ll pack up after breakfast and we’ll sneak out when they take their afternoon nap.”

Neither bothers holding in their laughter when Richie raises his voice and claims, “I heard that!”

…

**Author's Note:**

> I had too much fun writing this random little thing. Hope you guys like it! It's definitely a bit different from Carry The Ghost but I'm making up for all the fluff I owe y'all over there. ha!  
> Let me know what you think! I might do a couple more of these!


End file.
